


Seen Through A Different Lens

by TheFifthBiscuit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, Colin Creevey - Freeform, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Lavender Brown - Freeform, Photography, Rare Pairings, Romance, Scars, boudoir shoots, prompt, self love, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 16:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8407858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFifthBiscuit/pseuds/TheFifthBiscuit
Summary: Written based on a prompt from the Wordsmiths and Betas fb group. 8th year for Lavender, slightly AU as Colin and Dennis survived the Battle of Hogwarts."Lavender Brown, Colin Creevey, sitting behind a rock, a corset, and a tub of medals".Written and posted between 3 and  4am so probably in need of an edit.





	

On her second day of 8th year, Lavender realised she needed a place to hide.

An hour of carefully applying makeup to the scarred side of her face had done nothing to prevent a group of first years gawking at her as she made her way to breakfast, and now she was back in the common room, chest heaving and pulse racing, wondering how on Earth she was supposed to face Charms class.

The simple truth was that she couldn't, but Parvati would be looking for her and she just wasn't ready to have that conversation. She didn't want to be someone to be looked after, or pitied, she just needed some time to gather her strength. Which was how she found herself paused in the doorway to a little-used storage room in the bowels of Gryffindor Tower, shocked to find it was nothing like she remembered it.

The litter of abandoned desks and chairs and dusty tins of medals won by long-forgotten Gryffindors had been stacked haphazardly to one side, leaving just a small row of tables at the back. A cauldron bubbled in the corner and eery red lanterns illuminated the room along with the oddly shaped paper chains that hung above her head, making a sinister shadow of the figure who stood adjusting them.

“Well shut the door, will you?” the shadow called in a cheery voice. “I don't much mind whether you're on the inside or the outside of it when you do, but choose quickly.”

“Colin _Creevey?”_ She recognised that voice. The sound of the portrait hole swinging open made her mind up for her and she stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.

“Lavender _Brown._ ” he replied, imitating her emphasis, and she thought she could make out a mocking smile on his face. The events of last year had changed everyone so much. The boy… the wizard… who stood before her hadn't grown much over the summer but he stood taller, somehow. “What brings you to my darkroom?”

“I didn't know anyone was using it.” She said, stepping further into the room. She had to duck her head to avoid one of the streamers, which was when she realised they were actually photographs pegged onto string. A young blonde girl in a floppy sun hat and a light summer dress looked over her sunglasses at her, stretched out on the grass in a park, the Eiffel Tower rising behind her.

“I'm trying to improve my photography,” Colin admitted, “I needed somewhere dark, where I could brew the developing solution and I wouldn't be disturbed…” he smiled properly then, and it may have been his strange red lanterns but Colin’s big brown eyes seemed less bug-like than Lavender remembered, more warm and inviting. “Two out of three seems fair enough.” he told her.

She flinched under his attention, feeling glad of the darkness. She avoided his gaze and in doing so caught sight of the rest of the string of photographs; the Arc du Triumph, several in Pere Lachaise cemetery; a young Asian woman kissed the tomb of Oscar Wilde over and over in one, pausing occasionally to redo her lipstick.

“You went to Paris?” She asked, silently cursing herself for stating the glaringly obvious. Colin nodded.

“After everything… I nearly _died_ , Dennis nearly died…” he cleared his throat, eyeing her sideways. Her chest tightened. “I know a lot of people had much worse happen to them,” he told her hesitantly. She nodded, not looking her in the eye. Here came the pity. “But we were so lucky. We decided to seize the day I guess. Well, the summer really, we headed for France as soon as it was over. I’d always wanted to see Paris.”

She looked back at him to see that he was smiling softly at his photographs, not getting ready to offer some ham-handed consolement about her disfigured face. Lavender opened her mouth to speak, and then caught sight of the string of pictures behind him.

“Oh! Those are a little more erm… risqué.” She stammered, flustered. She couldn't be sure in the light but she thought that Colin blushed too.

“Well, there was a lot of... diem to carpe.” He answered sheepishly. “Some of these were commissions actually, ladies wanting tasteful photographs to give to their husbands, things like that.”

“And others?” She teased, shocked to find how much had changed, or perhaps how easily she had always dismissed Colin.

“Others were… acquaintances… of mine.” He said.

She walked past him for a closer look at the photographs, and to her surprise found a sudden lump in her throat.

“Acquaintances, hmm?” She asked. She'd intended for a joking tone, but that stupid lump tripped her and she choked on her words.

“Lavender? What's wrong?” Colin asked, a hand on her shoulder. Standing in a dark room with an almost stranger, she could finally let the tears fall.

“I’ll never look like this again,” she said, gesturing to the young women in the photographs surrounding them. A handful, different shapes and ages and skin tones but all beautiful, and none of them scarred like her. “I'll always be _ugly_ … And what if nobody ever wants to be… acquainted with me?” She whispered, shocked to find herself confiding all this to a boy.

Colin used his hand on her shoulder to turn her gently towards him. He cupped her face in his hands and seemed to examine her for several moments before letting her go.

“I don't see anything ugly there.” He said “I see a Gryffindor, a _lioness_ , who will wear the marks of her bravery every day, for everybody to see. Stand tall, Lavender.” and with that he turned back to his cauldron, making some adjustments to the temperature and adding a few ingredients. “I'm sorry to ask, but I really do need to get back to work if I'm going to finish up here before my first class.” he said over his shoulder, like he hadn't just set off fireworks in her brain, started a bloody revolution in there. Eyes hastily dried on her robes, shoulders back, she reached a decision. The weather was still warm yet, after all.

“Colin?”

“Mmm?”

“Meet me at the Lake, just before teatime. The light should still be good then.”

“...Alright.”

 

*************

 

Autumn hadn't quite set in yet, so Colin hadn't needed to put a jacket on when he went to meet her. Lavender greeted him outside the entrance hall in a long muggle coat done up to her chin, though.

“Ok, I have to ask, why am I here?” he said, adjusting his camera strap. She only shushed him.

“Not here, by the lake remember.” She told him, hurrying off across the grounds. He hesitated for a moment, looking around to see if there were other students outside waiting to jump out, if this was all some sort of prank. One of the most attractive girls in the whole school just accidentally stumbled onto his darkroom? Then insisted on meeting him outside? It felt like the warm up to several pranks he'd been the butt of in his time at Hogwarts, and if so he wasn't going to stick around. It seemingly was just them though, so he followed his curiosity and her to the lake, where she promptly led him behind a huge rock, shielding them from view from the castle.

“Lavender?” he asked, “Do you feel like telling me what's going on here?”

She stood facing away from him, fiddling with that huge coat of hers.

“Lavender?”

His mouth went dry as she slowly shrugged off the coat, revealing bare shoulders. It slid down to pool at her feet, revealing a corset and some _very_ nice knickers. He sort of thought of himself as a man of the world after the summer he’d had, and yet his eyes nearly popped out of his head as she turned to face him. She smiled at him mysteriously as she cast the coat to one side and arranged herself on the grass in front of the massive rock behind her. Legs stretched to one side, leaning casually on an arm. _How did she even know I’d bring my camera?_

“Ok Creevey,” she said, shaking her incredible curls out and winking at him. “Shoot me like one of your French girls.”

**Author's Note:**

> Would like to acknowledge and credit my shameless reference to the "Draw me like one of your French girls" scene in Titanic ;)


End file.
